Seawater, melting on my skin
With every splash of lazy waves,
The sand, which will not keep my prints,
The sun, which stings my trusting eyes,
The sharp cliffs, begging to be climbed –
All this I gratefully embrace
/
The sea’s glittering stars; its tales
Of lives, forsaken and reclaimed,
The clouds, which glide above my head
Like dreams ‘cross the gray skies of life,
This lonely man with tired eyes
On his stern face I kiss, I praise
/
My empty hands, which none could hold,
My troubled heart, that beats too slow,
The dim half-smile of my thin lips,
My blistered legs, which can’t find home,
This day has filled with strength unknown,
With life beyond the reach of words
The sand, which will not keep my prints,
Fed Govt keeps everyone’s prints
In Russia – definitely :)!
Gave me the sense of an endless journey as I read the poem.
That is the feeling I had on the day described in this poem. Thank you for reading!